


Starting A Fire

by superwholoki



Category: Sherlock (TV), Supernatural
Genre: Comedy, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-01
Updated: 2012-12-01
Packaged: 2018-09-11 13:12:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8981164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/superwholoki/pseuds/superwholoki
Summary: What would happen if the Winchesters and their guardian angel were forced to play out their roles as characters from Sherlock? Chaos ensures as Gabriel once again interferes.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A/ N: After watching Changing Channels, I got the idea to write Sam, Dean and Cas being forced to play out yet another of Gabriel’s TV show fantasies… this time BBC’s Sherlock. This is one of my earlier works I wrote a few years ago so it is certainly no masterpiece to say the very least. Regardless, I was rather pleased with the story itself so thought I’d post for shits and giggles.
> 
> Feedback always welcome. Follow me on tumblr: superwholoki.tumblr.com

Dean Winchester looked down at the pipe he held questionably in his hand. A perplexed look crossed his face as he placed it between his lips and hesitantly took a step toward the mirror revealing to him a deerstalker cap atop his head.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” scowled Dean. “I’m Sherlock freaking Holmes.”

“Uh, Dean?” Sam nervously called from the other room.

“Wait, don’t tell me. You’re Watson.” Dean laughed to himself. The irony of Gabriel, if this was his doing, turning them into the world’s two most famous detectives would be humorous to say the least.

“Guess again.” Sam grumbled as he stepped in the doorway, his face filled with embarrassment.

Dean was speechless at the sight of his brother wearing a busy floral print frock complete with heals to match in traditional Mrs. Hudson style. He buckled over in laughter, having to grab hold of knees for support. Composing himself, he quipped, “I always knew you were gay, Sam, but really? Those heels with that dress?”

“This isn’t funny, Dean,” Sam said in all seriousness. 

“Right” he said before clearing his throat and sporting his best poker face. “It’s just... you got the whole housekeeper landlady thing going on. Really suits you,” Dean quipped, unable to resist himself.

Sam glared furiously at his brother. “Bite me.”

Before Dean could open his mouth to continue his banter, he was startled by a sudden commotion originating from the floor below. Both Winchesters turned their glances to the narrow staircase of 221 Baker Street before meeting each other’s inquisitive looks. In sync, they raced down the staircase, Sam following closely behind. Unaccustomed to the finesse required for balancing in high heels, Sam found himself tumbling forward knocking Dean off his feet. The two landed awkwardly at the landing of the steps.

“What the hell, Sammy!” Dean struggled to get up from underneath Sam who was attempting to pull his shoe off, obviously oblivious to Dean’s actions.

“You try running down stairs in these,” Sam retorted as he held up a beige shoe with a snapped off heel. 

“It’s a wonder they got a shoe big enough.” Dean frowned at his little brother. Turning his back, he trudged off to investigate annoyed that Sam’s little mishap had most likely alerted the intruder to their presence. 

“Hold up. If I’m Mrs. Hudson and you’re Sherlock, who’s Watson?” Sam questioned, finally prying the second shoe off of his sizable foot.

"Beats me.” Dean shrugged noticeably unconcerned.

Sam rose from the stair steps to follow his brother to the next room. “No, really. Why couldn’t I have been Watson instead of… th-this.?”

“Screw Watson,” Dean growled in frustration with Sam’s insensate whining. Rounding the corner, Dean stopped dead in his tracks in a failed attempt to avoid collision with the sudden apparition of a man resembling John Watson.

“I- I don’t understand. Why would you want to screw me?” The man said making quotation gestures at the term.

Concern masked Dean’s face as he looked at the angel dressed as Watson. “Uh, Cas? What happened to your face?” It was more than obviously Dean was ignoring Cas’ clueless remark. “It looks like you lost a fight with a frying pan.”

“Actually I think you’re the one that happened to,” Sam butted in, referring to a rather looney case the two had recently worked.

Dean’s sneer faded to a half smile as he turned back to Castiel. “Hey, Cas.”

“Don’t call me that,” Castiel said in all seriousness. 

Not catching on to the gravity of the situation, Dean seemed to get a kick out of his statement. “What? You’re going by Clarence now? I mean I know you’ve been going through a midlife crisis since purgatory but really?” 

Cas looked positively frightened as his eyes darted suspiciously around the room. As if the blood and scrapes covering his face weren’t enough, the fact that Cas was actually showing fear had Dean convinced this was serious.

“What happened to you anyway? Who did this to you?” Dean reached his hands out putting them on either side of Castiel’s shoulders. “Was it Gabriel? I swear I’ll rip his insides out through his throat.”  
.  
Cas raised his hand, placing it firmly on the hunter’s forearm. Piercing eyes bore into Dean’s candy apple green ones as the whispered voice of the angel warned, “He wants us to act out the parts like before. Play the roles, whatever those may be. I first refused to obey. The consequences were severe. My brother is more powerful than I and wouldn’t except anything other than my full corporation. Although, I fear I don’t understand what Gabriel wants from me, having no knowledge of such things as your human television programs.” 

Dean nodded, the big picture finally clicking. “Elementary, my dear Watson. Just follow my lead.”

"When I find that son of a bitc--" Sam was cut off by Castiel who was wide-eyed.

"Please, listen to me. You need to be--” Castiel stopped mid-sentence having just registered Sam’s odd attire. He turned to Dean and whispered, “Who is he supposed to be?”

“Mrs. Hudson. The landlady.”

Sam threw his brother a look of judgement.

“I can’t watch BBC in my down time?”

Castiel nodded. “Right. Mrs. Hudson.”

Sam’s patience was wearing thin. He advanced toward Castiel, probably looking a lot less intimidating that he intended, considering his attire. "I don't give a damn what Mrs. Hudson--"

"You had better start giving a damn, as you put it, unless you want to suffer the consequences." Castiel said firmly, motioning to his bloodied face.

Dean took a step between the two men to intervene. "How precisely do you expect me to concentrate with you two imbeciles bickering like school children?" 

Sam was in momentary shock as he processed the uncharacteristic outburst. Although Castiel remained unfamiliar with Sherlock Holmes and the like, he had an inkling that Dean was playing his role per say. Castiel placed his hand on Dean’s shoulder as an expression of gratitude.

Dean's lips curled in a proud smile, pleased with his own performance. "You should expect nothing less, my dear Watson."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Oh common! You're not really gonna go along with thi- OWW!" Sam rubbed his arm scowling at Dean standing innocently beside him. 

Castiel’s eyes met Deans in a smoldering gaze. "Why don't we send Mrs. Hudson here to bake us a pie,” Castiel slowly said, enunciating each word as if reading from a script. It was far too obvious acting was not his forte.

Dean dramatically narrowed his eyes and turned to his brother, the landlady. "Yes! Yes, Mrs. Hudson. Quite an ingenious thought, John. Why don't you?"

"Like hell I am, Dean! This is ridiculous." Sam stormed off toward the front door. The doorbell rang the precise moment his hand reached the knob. Sam hesitated before turning the handle. He opened the door blocking Dean and Castiel’s view of him. The creek of the door was followed by a mysterious sloshing sound. Castiel and Dean exchanged puzzled looks. Sam took a step back, closing the door behind him to reveal a face full of cream pie.

"One cherry pie coming right up." Sam muttered a little too high pitched in a halfhearted Mrs. Hudson imitation as he sulked off to the kitchen.

Castiel turned to Dean and whispered in his ear, "Gabriel takes these games very seriously. We must proceed with caution and abide by his rules. If we don't--"

Dean placed his finger gently on Castiel's lips. "In that case..."

Dean slowly traced the outline of the man’s lips before leaning in and placing his own lips against them. Hesitant at first, Castiel slowly gave in, softly moving his lips against Dean's. The kiss became increasingly passionate as the two men finally gave into the desire which had been building up inside of them for so long. A wave of pleasure and emotions filled Castiel. Something he had never felt before or ever imagined possible. The rush of it all left him craving for more. Not entirely sure why Dean was feeling his hands down the angel's back, Castiel could only hope it meant he was enjoying it as much as he was. Dean's hands continued working their way downward, lifting up Castiel's coat and sliding under the back of his pants. Dean squeezed his hands playfully causing Castiel to gasp silently into Dean's mouth. Tightening his grip around Castiel, Dean pulled away, breaking the seal of their lips.

"You like that, angel boy?" Dean whispered, his breath hot against Castiel’s skin. The angel leaned in to continue the kiss. As their lips locked, Dean aggressively shoved the other man, pinning his back against the wall as he pressed up against him. Castiel struggled against his weight, grabbing Dean by the shoulders and reversing their position. The lock of their lips remaining unbroken. Castiel grabbed Dean's wrist, pinning them above his shoulders. Turned on by the angel's sudden force, Dean opened his mouth and softly traced his tongue along Castiel's lips. Castiel had never felt such pleasure and hoped it would never end. Dean's lips gently moved down Castiel's neck nibbling and kissing every inch before coming to his shirt collar. Bringing his lips to his neck tie, Dean loosened his tie with his teeth. He couldn't help but think this was a first for him, which wasn’t something Dean could often say in the bedroom, or living room of 221 Baker Street for that matter. He was used to being the dominate, more experience partner in romantic encounters but instead he found himself at the will of a man whom he’d be willing to do anything for in that very moment. 

Being a master in the art of seduction, Dean often fantasized about undressing a woman and caressing her body. He appreciated the curves of a woman, her smooth skin and soft lips. Dean had been with a countless number of women, never even thinking twice a sexual though about the opposite sex. He thought he'd gone through everything sexually imaginable in his mind. That is until he met Cas. Sinful thoughts ran though his mind of things he wanted to do to this heavenly angel of the Lord. Dean knew he was going to hell for this... again. If Castiel were there to save him, he would go through the excruciating physical and emotional pain and trauma of hell a hundred times over if only to have his saving angel to return to. Heaven on earth so to speak; which could describe Dean felt now. A thing so little as undoing Cas's tie sent Dean's mind racing into a million dirty thoughts. In the back of his mind, he'd known this moment was inevitable from the first time he laid eyes on Castiel. Sexual tension had been building between the two of them since the beginning. Dean convinced himself if was no more than just that but he couldn't shake the feeling that he needed so much more.

Castiel knew there was something special about Dean when he first took his arm raising him from perdition. Never having been this close with someone, Castiel had been unsure how to express the sexual side of these feelings, slowly learning from watching Dean in his numerous flirtations. It pained Castiel to watch Dean fall all over other women and feel like he didn't matter to Dean as more than someone to call for help. He longed to be so much more in his life but wouldn't dare make a move for fear of losing Dean. Being his friend and guardian was first and foremost. He would stand by patiently until Dean chose to love him. Castiel couldn’t have wanted anything more than that first kiss he'd only just had. Although he couldn't understand why now of all times Dean was choosing to act on these feelings.

Knowing nothing of pop culture, what he assumed this Sherlock thing was, Castiel felt like he was missing something. What did sexual tension have to do with Sherlock and John? Obviously Dean knew something he didn't. Still, Castiel wondered why Gabriel hadn't stopped them for being out of character, or were they? If Gabriel would punish them for their actions, Castiel didn’t give a damn anymore. Whatever he would have to endure would be well worth while for but a second of this time with his own angel Dean.

Castiel released his grip on Dean's wrist, leaving his hands free to begin undoing his shirt. As Dean heatedly undid Castiel’s shirt, popping a button off in in process, Castiel's hands worked their way down Dean's chest and around his waist finding the hem of his shirt. As Dean undid the last button on Castiel's shirt, Castiel awkwardly helped Dean out of his. Surprisingly graceful, despite his nervousness, Castiel slid his trench coat off in a swift movement. Dean couldn't help but smirk at the attractive show as his fingers worked to undo the Castiel’s belt.

At the touch of Dean's fingers on his skin, Castiel felt his cock tighten against his trousers as Dean slid them off. Dean placed his hands on Castiel's bare thighs pulling him in. Castiel reached his hands between their two bodies pressed together to undo Dean's jeans. The process was made difficult by Dean grinding his denim clad hips against Castiel's body which he knew full well was frustrating him. Dean smiled mischievously, taking pleasure in his playful taunts. Impatient and annoyed, Castiel roughly grasped Dean's arm forcefully turning his body and shoving him into an armchair a few feet away. Taken aback by Castiel’s dominance, Dean found himself helplessly pinned to the chair as Castiel crawled on top of him, holding him down by his weight and angelic strength. Cas brought his legs up to either side of Dean's hips straddling him. Dean watched wide-eyed as Castiel leaned in pressing his lips against his own.

The two lovers were so lost in the heat of the moment they were oblivious to cloud of smoke engulfing the room. The subsequent burning odor of it came to Castiel’s attention. Breaking the look of their lips, his eyes scanned the room coming to a stop at the sight of thick smoke seeping under the kitchen door.

"Dean?"

"Ohh, Cas." Dean moaned.

"No, Dean. There's a fire." Castiel said in a melancholy tone.

"Don't you know it, baby," Dean purred.

"The kitchen is on fire, Dean."

The meaning of his words took a moment to register. A sudden loud clamor originating from the kitchen brought Dean out of his daze. In a panic he struggled against Castiel's body to get up. Not having expected the angel to abruptly stand up, Dean was sent tumbling forward to his knees just as Castiel spun around. Dean steadied himself putting his hands on Castiel’s hips.

"Now is not the time." Castiel muttered as he slipped his trench coat, wearing only boxers underneath. Another wave of commotion resounded from the kitchen echoing the clatter of pots and pans clashing against each other followed by the shrill of glass shattering. Only half clothed, the two men burst through the door to find the remnants of what once was a pie now emitting flames from the oven.

Dean stood in the doorway watching curiously as Sam frantically tore apart the cupboards. Finding an industrial sized canister of salt, he ripped open the top dumping it into the oven. The fire sizzled as the salt touched the flames extinguishing them.

In his best Sherlock impersonation, Dean walked towards Sam sighing dramatically. "Any human being with an ounce of logic knows that the physical properties of flour are entirely more efficient in the extinguishing of kitchen fires." Sam just stared at him, his face covered in soot. Dean continued, "However, salt would be an acceptable substitute when you don't have this." He motioned to an overturned bag of flour on the counter.

"It works on spirits!" Sam spat in his defense. "What's the difference?"

"My dear, Mrs. Hudson, you are confusing two immensely different elements. Had the pie not been incinerated, I'd have been afraid to taste it."

Sam opened his mouth to protest but stopped noticing the suspicious lack of clothing on the two men. "Do I want to know?"

Dean and Castiel exchange glances unsure of what to say.

"No, Sam, I don't think you want to know what your brother and pretty angel boy here have been up to." 

Sam abruptly turned around at the sound of the voice behind him. Castiel looked angrily at his brother Gabriel who had just materialized before them.

"Common, Castiel. Don't pretend like you didn't enjoy that. If it wasn't for my," Gabriel paused. "My assistance... your Dean there might never have made an advance until Daddy knows when. But, I must say, you all played the game well if I do say so myself. And I do. Exactly what was meant to happen did. That's quite an accomplishment with you three. Generally it’s want can go wrong will go wrong." Gabriel smiled smugly.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, just get me out of this dress."

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. "Your place or mine?"

Sam gave Gabriel an icy look as he contemplated rephrasing his request. "Would you mind, douchebag, getting--"

He was cut off by Dean quickly interjecting before Sam got them in real trouble. "We've had just about enough of your TV show alternate reality bullshit. We did what you wanted. Happy? Now put things back to normal before I-"

"Before you what, Deano?" Gabriel sneered. "Kill me?"

The archangel roared in laughter. Dean harshly grabbed Gabriel's shirt collar, slamming him against a cupboard. Gabriel smiled in Dean's face.

"What's so funny, Gab?" Dean snarled.

"Gonna rip my clothes off too? Pretty angel boy might get a tad jealous watching though." Dean furiously swung the trickster around, throwing him onto the floor, his head banging against one of the open cabinet doors.

"Now is that anyway to treat your potential future brother-in-law?" Gabriel said wiping the blood from his lip.

"Consider that a taste of what will happen if you ever lay a hand on Cas again." Dean turned his back, not bothering to even glance back at Gabriel still lying on the floor.

"Gabriel, pl- please." Sam said in a hushed tone, his expression that of a sad puppy.

Gabriel sighed overly dramatically. "You guys are no fun." Snapping his fingers, he muttered, "As you wish."

The old wallpaper covered room of 221 Baker Street disappeared around them and the four men found themselves standing in an empty warehouse. Sam couldn't be happier to be back in his old clothes. Castiel, on the other hand, was still scantily clothed beneath his trench coat. He looked down and then back at his brother slightly embarrassed having to acknowledge his concern. "Gabriel, would you mind?"

The archangel chuckled. “That was your doing, bro, not mine.”

Before Castiel or the Winchesters could say a word, Gabriel disappeared as fast as he came. Dean, still shirtless, reached into his side pocket retrieving the Impala keys which he tossed to his little brother.

“Mind starting the car, Sammy? I'll be out in, uh, few minutes." Dean nonchalantly cleared his throat. Sam turned his back with a disgusted look, unable to look at his brother and Castiel, wanting to block out of his mind the things he knew they had in theirs. Waiting until Sam closed the door behind him, Dean turned to Castiel taking a couple steps forward, closing the gap between them. Dean took Castiel's hand in his and let him away. The fire had only just started.


End file.
